


From Beginning to End

by undernightlight



Series: Gays in Space [20]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon Universe, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Julian Bashir needs a hug, M/M, Minor Julian Bashir/Elim Garak, kinda sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-09 06:03:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19882816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undernightlight/pseuds/undernightlight
Summary: Julian Bashir has found that his life hasn't always how he would've liked it. Ups and downs, lefts and rights, and stomach churning loops and slips that made him sea sick.[Chronicles of Julian Bashir]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this last month? I think last month. I stayed up until 9:00am to write this - I did a lot of wikia reading for this and honestly I have to say I'm quite happy with it. This chapter is basically everything that happened in canon, and in chapter 2 it'll focus on the stuff after the show, the things from the books and all.
> 
> Please enjoy.

Julian didn’t exactly have many friends when he was at school. More precisely, he didn’t have any friends when he was at school. It didn’t bother him too much when he was younger, but when he reached high school, things became different. Julian was the sort of kid that corrected the teacher when they got something wrong or weren’t teaching the concept to its full breadth - the teachers always said it wasn’t necessary and that they’d learn it in a few years anyway, a reason he never really understood -- or when they’d forgotten to collect in the given assignment. It took him longer than it should, with his genetically enhanced brain, to realise that people didn’t like that.

He was smarter than practically every other kid in the school, and Julian learnt that the other students there didn’t like to be reminded of that. He didn’t have friends, and part of him could accept that, but it was the beatings that were harder to deal with, mentally and physically. Every so often, the same group of kids would corner him and beat him to the ground. He was smart enough to protect his head, but the rest of him wasn’t usually so lucky. He’d go home with bruises under his shirt, along his arms and legs, but he just wore long sleeves and never worn shorts, and no one seemed to notice.

Slowly, he learnt to shut his mouth. He stopped speaking up in class, which seemed to benefit everyone around him. He went out of his way to eat lunch alone and out of sight. These didn’t stop the beatings, but they were less frequent, and that was all he could really hope for.

Despite used to being alone, Julian so desperately wanted friends, people he could talk with and laugh and smile with. He thought university would be different. It was in one regard - there were finally repercussions to those that beat him. It didn’t stop them, but it did deter them enough for it to become a rare occasion. Julian really struggled to come up with one person that he could’ve really counted as a friend, but he didn’t really care. He got on with his studies, head down and grades up, and graduated quickly.

Then Starfleet. He’d wanted to become a doctor since he was ten, a surprise to his family since he’d always had a very active fear of them, but he was determined to be a doctor and to be a doctor in Starfleet. He felt guilty having to lie on his application form. Often, he thought that if the enhancements had been consensual - he was only seven, like he really understood what was happening - maybe he wouldn’t of felt so guilty. But he never had a say in it. It was all his parent’s will. He came to resent them when he truly found out the extend of what they’d done to him. Their precious “Jules” became Julian and his life went on, keeping a secret he never wished to have.

When he chose DS9 as his station, his parents thought he was crazy, trying to convince him of anything otherwise. He didn’t listen. Anything to get him away from them he’d take, and this was about as far away as he could get. He was somewhere new, surrounded by different people, and he finally thought that maybe he could make some friends. He was desperate to be liked. He hated that about himself but being practically alone for his entire life could drive a person to unusual thought patterns.

He went out of his way to say hi to people, to strike up conversation, to be enthusiastic about his work and his station and just about anything and everything. Still, no one seemed to like him. He was trying, he really was, but he just didn’t understand. He wasn’t being overly smart, clearly his downfall in the past, so why, still, did people turn and walk the other way when they saw him coming? With all his genetic enhancements, he still couldn’t come up with an answer other than he was just unlikeable in practically every aspect. That wasn’t a fun revelation. And so, he ate lunch alone at the replimat, and ate dinner there too if he was working late. It was easy to bury himself in his work; there was so much to do, and it proved to be a good distraction. He expected his life on the station wouldn’t vary much if track record was anything to go by. Except one day, it changed.

Though at first, Julian wasn’t exactly sure it was a good change when Garak first sauntered up behind him in such a predatory way, but he soon realised that it was probably the best thing that had ever happened to him. Garak didn’t appear to care about the things people usually seemed to - he almost revelled in that fact - and Julian couldn’t’ve been more grateful. It started out as one brief interaction, but soon things turned into longer conversations, then lunch every so often, and then weekly. And then suddenly, Julian found that he had a friend.

The excessive need to be liked became less prominent because finally he had someone he could talk to; someone he could actually call a friend. He was content with one friend - it was one more than he’d had most of his life - and so he moved forward. Lunches with Garak became something he looked forward to. When either of them had to cancel due to a medical emergency or last-minute client, Julian couldn’t help but feel his heart drop a little. He knew that when he eventually got around to eating, he’d eat alone. Sometimes they were able to reschedule for later that day, sometimes it was a day or two before they ate together. Julian looked forward to their lunches no matter the day.

He found then that people started talking to him more, being more receptive and responsive to his questions, and occasionally even initiated the conversation. That was a welcome surprise he’d admit. He’d sometimes spend nights trying to figure out why, and he eventually concluded that people don’t want to be friends with people who want to be friends. Clearly his eagerness was off putting. He made subtle adjustments to his behaviour and it seemed to work, gaining a solid relationship with Jadzia and a smooth working relation with Commander Sisko. Kira was not so easily won over and neither was the Chief, but that was alright. The fact that he somehow managed to have friends was enough for him.

His station life went on. Time passed and he’d finally, somehow, won Miles over, and he felt rather triumphant about that. Working on the station was generally better now that people were willing to offer him a smile as they walked past instead of actively avoiding him. His friendship with Garak had continued, which he was grateful for because Julian had never met anyone quite like Garak, and it would be a shame to lose him. They’d had ups and downs, and still some of those lows followed him around; every once and awhile - and usually at unprovoked times - he’d hear Garak say that he hated him, and he’d have to snap him back to whatever it was that he was doing and remind himself that it was only the ghost of a memory. A very stubborn ghost. The ups usually seemed to outweigh the downs for which he was thankful, but of course there were days where he couldn’t quite shake those negative feelings and he just had to push through.

When he first met Garak, he was cautious. Then they became friends and Julian was able to identify the feelings associated with friendship quite easily despite never experiencing them himself. But then feelings started to shift, and things became very confusing very fast. At first, when he started feeling different towards Garak, he just thought it was because he’d never really had a friend before and that the feelings would pass like indigestion. Then, when he started to have a social life and friends, and the feelings didn’t pass, he had to start analysing things a bit closer. He didn’t want to, not really, rather scared of the possible outcomes, but what his heart couldn’t figure out, surely his head was able to.

His head was able to, but he wasn’t sure he liked the answer. Having a life outside of his work was already difficult enough to manage - not that it wasn’t rewarding but it was still difficult - so having to even comprehend the fact that he had a romantic interest in Garak was entirely draining. And once he came to that stunning realisation, he suddenly had to think about what to do with these feelings. Surprisingly that came to him a lot quicker. Solution: bury those feelings as far down as you can because don’t you dare mess up a perfectly good friendship you idiot. That was what his mind told him, and since when was his super intelligent and genetically enhanced brain ever wrong?

The answer was a lot, and he knew that, but Julian chose denial instead. It was safer. And so, he continued to be friends with Garak but he started putting some distance between them. He’d purposely tell Garak he had to cancel lunch and that they’d have to reschedule, just to put off seeing him a little longer. He didn’t exactly want to do that, but it was the only hope, Julian thought, of getting over his feelings. It didn’t work, not one bit. If anything, it just made it worse; whenever he saw Garak, his heart practically jumped and clogged in his throat. But he would much rather deal with that then risk everything he had with Garak. Garak was far too special to him to risk it.

Life continued, quite alright for quite a while. The feelings didn’t go, but Julian became better at ignoring them and, when times called for it, dealing with it in a more private setting. It wasn’t the most ideal, but it was the most acceptable. And he thought that it would continue that way. Little did he know that the Dominion had other plans for him.

The kidnapping and torture were not fun, as one would expect. The beatings reminded him very much of when he was younger, that lanky teenager being kicked to the ground and relentlessly attacked. Expect those attackers were human. These were Jem’Hadar. Their toture was brutal and never ending. He was tougher than the average human, but it still hurt. They also liked to fight. Randomly, prisoners were dragged from their cells into a ring and were forced into combat with Jem’Hadar soldiers. He was made to do it a few times, though it was clear they had a preference for their Klingon captives. He did well, for a human, his augments allowed him longer in the ring, higher stamina and strength, but that wasn’t always for the best. The fighting just went on for longer, he was beaten and punched and kicked and elbowed in the face and stomped on for longer.

At times, Julian thought it would’ve been easier on him if he’d just died, at their hands or his own, but he kept himself going, somehow. He wasn’t exactly sure the reason until he unexpectedly saw Garak at Internment Camp 371. Garak was his reason. All his friends were the reason really, but it Garak that was truly his reason for surviving. So, when he found out that for over a month, a changeling imposter had taken his place aboard the station and no one had realised, he felt quite utterly pathetic.

He thought that maybe someone would’ve realised he was missing, but of course he quickly came to the conclusion that a changeling had replaced him. He thought though, that sooner or later someone would realise he was acting different, that something was off about him. But no one did. With that piece of information, however small it seemed to the people around him, completely devastated him. Was he really that unimportant? Unnoticeable? Did people really care so little about him? It felt that way. So, when he returned, tired and traumatised - not that he told people that - he’d still smile and still go the holosuite with Miles, but it didn’t quite sit the same with him anymore. 

The trauma was something else entirely. He could do his job fine and he knew exactly what to say and how to say it to pass the routine psychological check with ease. He could sense the scepticism from his examiner, but he was cleared for duty nonetheless. Maybe under different circumstances, he’d have been held a little longer, just to be sure, but in war, rules were not always a privilege that could be kept. His trauma though, manifested in his dreams. He’d wake up in sweats, breathing heavy, momentarily forgetting where he was, only to slowly be brought back to his dull but safe reality. Safe was relative, but it was safer than the internment camp so he wouldn’t complain. Dull was also relative, but everything seemed a little more sombre since returning. He didn’t quite enjoy things the same way anymore.

He began to recover, slowly but it was still recovery. The nightmares were less frequent and less vivid, though he’d still get those that scared him enough to not wish to sleep, but they weren’t every night anymore. Julian felt he was getting better, even if he felt alone again, just like he had when he first arrived, only now it was worse. He knew the friendships he’d lost. No, he hadn’t lost them, they just sat differently within him. Though it was a lot to comprehend, he felt positive in his recovery, that things could return to anything that vaguely resembled normality. But then Doctor Zimmerman appeared.

At first, he was quite happy, being part of something so monumental he couldn’t help but feel honoured to be picked. That faded very quickly when Zimmerman mentioned the full psychological profile. He thought maybe it’d be okay, until his parents were brought onto the table. He asked not to involve them, but since when were his concerns taken into consideration in regard to his parents? So they appeared at the station, much to his surprise, and then began the tiresome process of having to deal with them. It wasn’t that he didn’t love them, he adored them, but they never quite seemed to be on the same page - often it felt like they weren’t even reading from the same book. His father was especially tiring. One dinner, he had to leave the room but his legs couldn’t carry him much further than the doorway, so he just sat there on the floor, leaning against the bulkhead and fighting back tears. He should’ve been used to it, and he was, but it still frustrated him, and it hurt like hell.

By the end of the ordeal, everyone knew his little secret. Some were more bothered about it than others. It seemed he was most bothered out of them all. Maybe he shouldn’t be. Starfleet knew and they were okay with it - sort of - and he got to keep his post on DS9. He should be happy, yet there was a weight in his chest that hadn’t been there before. It took some adapting to, but in the end, it seemed it was for the best. Garak didn’t seem to care, poking and prodding here and there but nothing Julian hadn’t done in regard to Garak’s secretive past. He appreciated that, more than he could really find the words for.

His feelings for Garak had solidified, so much so that is felt a part of his identity, and he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. On one hand, it gave him a sense of companionship that he had craved his entire life. On the other, he felt like he’d lost a part of himself, that he’d broken a piece of himself to give to Garak for it to lay discarded on the replimat floor. Feelings were a trifle disconcerting, he’d found, and sometimes he truly wondered if he was better off with or without emotional ties. He decided he’d probably make a terrible doctor if he didn’t care about his patients, so emotions were for the best; they were just rather strenuous.

The Dominion War was in full swing and Julian had little time to truly analyse his feelings like he used to, so he pushed them aside the best he could and got on with the job. He didn’t like killing. It didn’t matter that they were at war and that he was killing people that would otherwise kill him, but he was a doctor, not a soldier, and this was not what he had signed up for. 

To try and cut off the Dominion’s ketracel-white supply in the Alpha Quadrant was a lofty goal, and that was putting it lightly, but if there could pull it off, then there was a chance they could win the war, an outlook that was looking less and less likely. 32.7%, but it could be worse. That’s what he told Garak and he meant it. It was less than half but he’d faced situation with odds far lower and come out relatively unharmed. Garak seemed unimpressed but that didn’t really surprise him, though he was sure that Garak’s time with the Obsidian Order - something he was confident on even if Garak would never openly admit it - had provided lower odds also. But things were different now, for both of them, Julian supposed, but what did he know. It didn’t seem like Garak really knew either, for he had said “you act as if you haven’t a care in the world”. Quite the opposite really. It was taking everything he had not to fall apart on the spot because he knew people would die if he did that. And that wasn’t arrogance or “smug superior attitude” as Garak had phrased it, but instead facts, because he was a doctor, and without a doctor in a war, people would die.

The plan worked and everyone made it out alive, but they couldn’t quite catch a break. The ship’s warp drive was down and with impending Jem’Hadar ships, they were target practise. Luckily, somehow, they managed to escape destruction and crash on a m-class planet. Jadzia was hurt so she was his main priority, and he was working well until he heard the Garak and Nog had been captured by Dominion troops. He wasn’t sure if Jadzia could tell he was distracted. If she could, she didn’t mention it which he was ever thankful for, because one word about Garak, even the mention of his name, could’ve caused him to lose his lunch. Not that he had much food in him, but he needed all he could get.

They get them back with little harm done, their lives in trade for his medical skills. He saved the vorta, Keevan, but then to find out that the slimy individual was planning on sending his troops in on a suicide attack just to save his own skin. It didn’t seem right, but Julian kept his mouth shut. Garak made the point of saying that the Jem’Hadar won’t hesitate to kill them, the us-or-them mentality that everyone had adopted during the war, and he was right. Julian didn’t have to like it, but Garak was right. So, they slaughtered every Jem’Hadar soldier that came at them.

It took him awhile to recover from that, mentally. The next time he was truly happy was at Worf and Jadzia’s wedding. He couldn’t help but smile at them, so in love that it was almost sickening. There was an afterparty, a reception, whatever it was to be called, and Julian found himself a strange mix of joy, pining and misery. He couldn’t keep his eyes off Garak. It was ridiculous, but it was the truth. Something in him wanted to ask Garak to dance, but he decided against it every time the thought popped into his head. It wasn’t the time. Julian wasn’t sure when the right time was, but he had a notion that it would make itself apparent.

Life got quite hectic after that, not that it wasn’t before, but the wedding gave everyone a sense or normality if only for a brief period of time. All too soon they lost Jadzia and gained Ezri. Things got further complicated then, with feelings developing for her while the ones for Garak remained steadfast. In the end, Julian though that Garak would be the wrong choice. He didn’t have any logic to support this, he wasn’t even sure it made sense. He wasn’t sure why, but he just somehow knew that maybe things weren’t meant to be; he could never quite make his mind up on how confident he was in his decision to finally let things go. And so he pursued Ezri and things turned out well when he found it was reciprocated.

The only doubt he ever had popped up when he was saying goodbye to Garak. His exile had been lifted and he was returning to Cardassia Prime. Part of Julian wanted to be selfish and ask him to stay on DS9, but that would just be cruel. Garak hadn’t exactly had the easiest or happiest time on the station so Julian wasn’t going to ask him to stay. At least he wouldn’t be alone, either of them. Garak had his people, and he had Ezri and his friends. Things wouldn’t be the same without Garak though, and he knew that. Both could see through the lie when Julian said he was sure they’d see each other around. He knew he’d be lucky if he ever saw Garak again. There were so many things to be said and not enough time, and in the moment, Julian found he couldn’t say anything. Garak left and Julian turned back to the console because he didn’t want to witness Garak walking out of his life. He didn’t think that was something he’d be able to handle.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is all post-season 7 so yeah. I wasn't sure if I was even going to include this, but I wrote it so why not. I hope you enjoy.

Things weren’t smooth sailing after that, not as smooth as he’d have liked. While he was happy for Ezri to explore and reconnect with the past Dax hosts, when she changed personality during sex, it wasn’t ideal. He nearly died some short time after, and amid the trauma they reconciled. They lasted about ten months and Julian was undoubtedly happy, but was he his happiest? That was something he found impossible to answer, and partially for that reason, their relationship ended, he thought. 

Section 31 still hadn’t left him alone. He didn’t want to help them, but with the risk of another eugenics war, he got involved, bringing in Ethan Locken, a self-proclaimed “new Khan”, in to face Section 31 justice, whatever that would be. He had no interest in keeping relations with them, no interest in joining their sneaky organisation, and so he continued his work on DS9, but now with the addition of a few new friends he could call upon if he needed it: Ro Laren and Taran'atar.

He was promoted to commander six years later, still at DS9. He was growing tired with his work there. It wasn’t that he didn’t like it, but that he was alone again. Everyone had left to go and do other things while he was carrying out the duties of any other Starfleet medical officer. He thought about taking some time to visit some friends, mainly Garak; it had been a long time since he’d seen him, probably close to four years, and he was dreadful at keeping up with their letters. In the end he decided against it, opting for a mission to the Breen world instead. He did get to see Ezri though, she was the captain of the USS Aventine. She’d done so well, gone so far, and he felt like he hadn’t moved an inch. The mission was successful though, the quantum slipstream drive rendered inoperable as desired. He thought about staying involved with Starfleet Intelligence, but decided against it in the end, never quite being able to find his footing in those murky grey areas.

After the mission, he began a relationship with Sarina Douglas, his partner on said operation. They’d met before, during the Dominion war, and they’d tried something out but things were different back then, more complicated, so it had ended just as soon as it had begun, but they decided to try again, things feeling better since they’d last met. They had a lot in common, fundamentally the fact that they were both human augments. Things between them went well and continued that way, for the most part, despite all the events that followed.

Deep Space Nine was destroyed. It was hard when he began to suspect Sarina as a suspect in the bombing, but he couldn’t deny the evidence that he was piecing together. She was clever and figured out what he was thinking and she came clean to him; she was a double agent. She was working for Starfleet Intelligence to bring down Section 31 from the inside, and that she was supposed to recruit him into 31 since they still showed interest after all this time. If she didn’t have evidence to back it up, he wouldn’t’ve believed her. He agreed to help her, feeling Section 31 needed to be stopped; they’d taken too much from too many people through the years.

The new DS9 was opened to a fancy welcoming party for diplomats across the quadrant. He was still the chief medical officer, so not much had changed in that regard. Federation President Nanietta Bacco was there to officially open the station. She was shot dead. The opening of the station went ahead as planned, but it wasn’t so much a party anymore.

It wasn’t long after when he heard the news on Cardassia, that his old friend, plain and simple Garak, had been assassinated in the wake of Bacco’s permanent termination. When he heard the news, at first, he didn’t react, the words floating in the air around him. Once they truly sank in, he bolted from the room and emptied his stomach and didn’t move from his position on the floor for hours. How? When? Why more importantly. His hands wouldn’t stop shaking and he couldn’t get the words out when Sarina found him. She didn’t force it, which he was thankful for, and she sat with him. He appreciated the concern, but he just wanted to be left along to curl into a ball and weep, but his throat was clogged and he couldn’t tell her that. Instead, he openly grieved, messy and ugly and loud, into her arms because he didn’t know what else to do. He’d lost Garak, his first friend, his first love, never being able to tell him that without him in his life, it would’ve been a rather boring one.

It was two days later - two days of Julian moping around the station on medical leave - when it was announced that Garak had, in fact, faked his death. It was probably for the better that they weren’t in the vicinity of each other when the news broke, because very quickly that statement would’ve had to of been retracted and a new one issued the Elim Garak was found strangled in his own home. It was for the best that he was 5.25 light years away. Garak announced his candidacy for Castellan of the Cardassian Union, and he was quickly taking over Evek Temet, his opponent. It was in the wake of everything, that Julian found it most appropriate to reach out.

_Dear Garak,_

_Firstly, may I express my profound relief at learning that you are not, in fact, dead, but have merely been taking a short sabbatical on Federation soil? I don’t know the details, of course, but if it was a trick, Garak, it was not a kind one. We’re reeling from one loss. I couldn’t have stood another._

_Leaving aside the fact that I believed for a brief period that you were beyond the reach of any letter that I might send, I’m conscious of having been a poor correspondent. I am sure you understand how difficult these recent days have been. Everything has changed, and, like everyone else, I’m afraid of what might happen next. I’m afraid of where this grief might take us and what we might become._

_Which brings me to my real reason for writing. I wanted to wish you success in your latest venture. Running for castellan! Did you ever see that coming? I admit I didn’t, sitting opposite you in the Replimat listening to you slander Shakespeare. I didn’t see any of this coming. I suppose I should know better than to underestimate you. Never stop surprising me, Garak. It really will seem like the world has ended._

_Because of our long friendship, I hope you’ll not be offended by what I have to say next. But I must say it. In your past letters to me, you have written eloquently of the isolation that has been such a condition of your life and how this was what permitted you to lead the life that you led and poison yourself on Cardassia’s account. You alone know what you have done for Cardassia, and I have never asked and never will. You wouldn’t tell me anyway, not the truth._

_But you let me in, Garak. You let me in when you allowed me to help you recover from your addiction to your implant. When you let me stay and listen to what you had to say to Tain before he died. You let me in, and so I have a duty to you: to ask you to look out for yourself, to watch yourself, for any sign that you are becoming like him. When I met him in the Arawak Colony, before I knew who he really was, Tain said that he never had to order you to do anything, and that was what made you special._

_From all I hear, you’re going to be the next castellan of the Cardassian Union. And I’m terrified for you. I must ask you—beg you—not to isolate yourself. Surround yourself with good people, Garak: people who will speak to you honestly and truthfully and who will tell you when you are doing wrong. Keep them close. Make sure they are never afraid to tell you the truth. Do not be your father’s son._

_Perhaps I’m speaking out of turn. You’d be well within your rights to be angry with me, to destroy this letter and never speak to me again. I hope that won’t be the case. I hope you’ll forgive me. These are the words of someone sick at heart at all that has been happening this past week and who thought for a while that you really were dead this time. I’m afraid for myself and my own people as much as I’m afraid for you and for yours. But I want to believe that you—and Cardassia—are coming out of the shadows. It’s been a long, hard road for your people, and there’s a way to go yet. But perhaps at last it’s right for you to have your time in the sun. And while the sun shines on your new Cardassia, and for as long as it shines, and should the shadows ever fall upon you or your world again, I will remain—_

_Your friend,  
Julian Bashir_

There was more that could’ve been written, should’ve been written considering he almost lost Garak, or at least though he did, but he couldn’t bring himself to. The correct answer as to why he couldn’t was because he was in a relationship and he loved Sarina, and this was true, but it wasn’t the answer. The answer was because he couldn’t do that to Garak. He couldn’t force his feelings upon him when he was running for Castellan, Garak had enough to worry about and so did he, so he kept his feelings to himself. He thought, after all this time, that they’d of dissipated, evaporated into nothingness, but that didn’t seem to be the case. Honestly it was rather frustrating, but maybe person’s first love always held this kind of weight over somebody, or maybe he was the exception. He didn’t care enough to try and find out.

He was discharged from Starfleet some months later, dishonourably at first but it eventually being altered. He thought it was a rather ridiculous decision, but he stood by his actions. He’d rather be dishonourably discharged for going behind Starfleet’s back and saving the Andorians from extinction, than remain in an organisation that were willing to watch an entire species cease from existing, knowing full well they could prevent it, all because they were bitter when the Andorians left the Federation. It was a long and complicated situation that he’d quite like to forget, with friends turning against him because they were following orders to bring him down, seventeen days spent in solitary confinement at a Starfleet prison, attempted murdered, all before his eventual discharge. Sometimes he wished to forget it all. Other days he was impartial. He did however enjoy the sanctuary he had on Andor with Sarina. It offered him some peace that he never thought he’d have.

Charges were dropped against the Aventine crew, they were his accomplices after all, but they remained firm in bringing him to trial. He was court martialled, but he wasn’t overly bothered by it. He knew it was only really for show, orchestrated by Starfleet Intelligence to make him attractive to Section 31. It worked. Cole recruited both him and Sarina for a mission that sent them further than their own universe. Julian didn’t like to dwell on the time he spent as Kren.

When he returned home to Andor, it was greeted with children named Julian and Bashir or some combination of the two or a name inspired by his. It was flattering but awkward. These children wouldn’t’ve been possible without what he’d done, but that wasn’t why he did it. He didn’t do it for the recognition. He did it because it was the right thing to do. He and Sabrina thought about having a kid but their lives were far too hectic to raise a child, they both knew that, so even thinking about it was self torture. That had never stopped Julian in the past from letting him mind wander though.

After another successful mission for Section 31, upon returning home, they were met by a trill reporter by the name of Ozla Graniv, alerting them to an artificial intelligent by the name of Uraei. It started simple but grew beyond its programming, going as far as murdering people that stood in its way. They were told and Uraei was orchestrator of the intelligence program behind Section 31. It went by the name Control. All that time, they’d just been following the orders of a machine that cares so little about human life that it would kill them as if swatting away flies. A lump formed in Julian’s throat as he took Sarina’s hand for comfort and stability as his legs began to wobble. She wasn’t fairing much better.

It took a lot to take down Uraei. They found Data, long retired and living on Orion with his daughter Lal, and the four of them began to process of taking down this intelligence. Their first attempt didn’t go unnoticed and they fled. In a panic, choosing a destination was both easy and difficult. They ended up on Cardassia Prime, in the home of Castellan Garak. Where else was Julian going to lead them but to Garak. He hadn’t seen Garak in a long time, nearly a decade, but upon seeing him, it almost felt like no time had passed at all. Maybe their hug lasted longer than it should’ve, but could anyone blame him? They weren’t safe long, Uraei finding them and sending operatives. They had to fight to get away and all but Sarina made it out. Uraei took her. Data had to use his strength to force Julian with them. He didn’t want to leave, he couldn’t just leave her, but he had to. If they wanted any chance to stop Uraei, Control, then they had to go, Sarina or not.

Planting encrypted viruses into old Federation outposts ended up defeating Uraei, but it also defeated Julian and Sarina. The code was uploaded, Julian at Memory Prime and Data at Memory Alpha, and it was working. As Julian turned to leave, there was Sarina, blade in hand. Having to fight her was just cruel, and Julian fought to protect himself but to protect her was his priority. It was working well until she slashed along his back, cutting his spinal cord. He fell to the floor, feeling so much pain but not at all feeling his legs. The scream he let out hurt his lungs and throat as it left his body, but that was not the worst to come.

The monitor behind beeped, alerting him that the upload was complete. Uraei had been purged from the systems. Despite the pain, he managed to smile, turning back to Sarina, expecting her to drop the knife and be free of Uraei and Control. He turned back, happy and hopeful, just in him to see her plunge the knife into her chest. Her body fell lifeless to the floor and all he could do was watch as blood started to pool out of her body. His mouth hung open, air in his throat choking him. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t move. Absolutely helpless as his love bled out five feet away from him. He cried but made no sound, tears pouring and not stopping even if he’d tried, but he didn’t. He was aloud to openly fall apart when the woman he’d been with for four year, the woman that he loved, killed herself in front of him.

Time was a concept that didn’t exist as he laid there on the floor, unable to move. At some point, Data and Lal found him, accompanied by Memory Alpha security, and took him away. By then, he was just empty. He let himself be carried away, he didn’t fight it. He didn’t even fight when he was taken away from Sarina; there was nothing left in him to fight anymore.

He wasn’t really with it after than. His spine was fixed but he still didn’t move. He could hear things but they didn’t register; he could hear but he didn’t listen. He didn’t speak. He didn’t respond to anything. Vaguely aware of his surroundings changing, his life was significantly different. Garak would read to him - Julian, if he was looking around, would know he was back on Cardassia in Garak’s residence - but they became rare occasions. He made only one attempt to move, two years after he went catatonic, when his sweet and soft childhood bear Kukalaka was tucked gently under his arm. If he was paying attention, he would’ve known it was Pulaski that placed it there, but he wasn’t, so he didn’t know how the bear got into his arms. As Garak settled into an enigma tale, eyes fixed on the pages as he read, Julian’s fingers twitched to reach out for Kukalaka. It wasn’t long lived, as moments later, he returned to the placid and empty rest that had become his norm.


End file.
